


Sour Cherry Scones

by TheSmallTownGirl



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: During Canon, Food, M/M, Other, POV Simon Snow, Scones, Simon Snow loves Scones, Sour Cherry Scones (Simon Snow), what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23997502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmallTownGirl/pseuds/TheSmallTownGirl
Summary: Simon Snow just really really loves Sour Cherry Scones.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Simon Snow & Scone, Simon Snow/Scone, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Sour Cherry Scones

**Author's Note:**

> This was a very odd request to fill, but also kind of fun? Enjoy!

****I mean, they're just _right there._ Not too far from me- just on the other side of the dining hall. I've not had much food in weeks, and it's the first day back to Watford... I'll limit myself to ten. _No_. Maybe fifteen? Twenty. Twenty _has_ to be the max. (I can feel myself bloody salivate at just the very _thought_ of them- I could smell them from across campus, I swear to Crowley.) Penny says I might be a bit obsessed. But how _couldn't_ I be?

They're so... _Merlin_ , I don't even know how to describe them. They're crumbly, fluffy and light, but also a little dense. They taste like _magic_. _Better_ than magic. They fall apart right on your tongue, but they don't leave _too_ many crumbs when you're just holding them. _Smelling_ them is almost right sexual. (It's _not_ , I _swear_. But... _almost_ is. Baz says I've got a scone fetish. Wouldn't he like to know.) They smell tart, but not so tart it makes your eyes water. (Just your mouth.) They also smell sweet, but _again_ , not so sweet that it makes you feel like you'll get cavities.

The _taste_ is something else entirely. (Don't even get me _started_ on the way they feel; so crumbly... almost greasy... _golden..._ I'm rambling.) They taste almost like they smell. (Which is bloody _heavenly_.) They're slightly flaky, and Pritchard sometimes coats them with some sort of chunky sugar which only _adds_ to the texture in your mouth. It tastes buttery and sweet and tart. It tastes like _happiness and love and-_

And oh _Merlin_ , when you put butter on them... don't even get me bloody started. I think they may be the thing I miss most about Watford when I'm gone. Now that I'm back, here in the dining hall, they're all that I can think about. (I think I may be drooling a bit- but who can blame me?)

I'm still lost in my daydreams about the scones that when I feel a sharp nudge in my side, I jump. "Si? You've been standing here for like three minutes. And what is-" She inspects me like a mum and wipes my chin with her sleeve. "Drool? Simon, what on Earth were you thinking about?"

I feel bad when I make a beeline straight to the scones while she's still talking, but not _too_ bad. They're _scones_ , for fucks' sake. When I bite into them, I have to close my eyes just to savor them. (And I _never_ savor food. Baz has called me a _plow_ more than once. The tosser.)

_Sour cherry scones._

(Sometimes I dream about them.)


End file.
